Lightning Strikes Twice
by Switchblade237
Summary: Harry's living a normal life in normal Muggle London- except for the fact that he's wanted by the Ministry, and there's a rising threat in the Wizarding World...
1. Default Chapter

Summary: Harry is living in Muggle London, framed for murder and wanted by Azkaban after the final battle with Voldemort. What happens when the law starts to catch up with him?

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or any of the Harry Potter characters. Numb and Nobody's Listening belong to Linkin Park, and the song Ordinary belongs to Train.

Liam silently slipped through the door to his apartment, long ago established habits rising to the surface. He flipped on the light, and scanned the room. He then promptly let out a sigh and scolded himself for his paranoia. However, his paranoia was not unfounded. He wasn't really the man named Dr. Liam Johnson, but an entirely different man- Harry James Potter, better known as the Boy-Who-Lived.

He was also known by the greater wizarding population as The-Boy-Who-Lived-To-Murder. He had moved to Muggle London to avoid Azkaban after the final war, when Lord Voldemort was defeated. He was wanted by the Ministry for the murder of several upstanding wizards in the wizarding society- those the press refused to identify as Death Eaters. Then, to top it all off, Voldemort had framed him for the deaths of Hermione, Dumbledore, Remus Lupin, Fred and George Weasley, and Hagrid. No one else had been there when they had died.

Liam snorted and ran a hand through his hair. Trust the wizarding world to turn against their savior. He still had his trademark messy black hair, tied in the back into a small rat-tail at the base of his neck. His emerald eyes, however, were hidden behind ice-blue contacts. He had also legally changed his name to Liam David Johnson in the Muggle world. No one knew he was here, and no one knew who he was.

Liam had been a doctor for only two years, having only recently graduated from medical school. He was also the lead singer in a band called Lightning Strike. A rather interesting coincidence, he now mused. His own lightning-shaped scar was concealed with a deep red bandanna at all times.

Shaking himself out of his revere, Liam poured himself a glass of water- he'd had bad experiences with alcohol before- and collapsed into a overstuffed chair, rubbing his forehead in an attempt to dispel the headache that had plagued him since he had got to work that morning. Soft music was playing down from the apartment above him, and despite himself, Liam found himself dropping off.

Crimson eyes were all he saw. Demon eyes. Slitted eyes, just like a snake's. Desperate cries and agonized screams echoed around him, but all that filled his mind were those merciless, fiery crimson eyes.

Voldemort's dungeons. Harry had been captured almost two weeks before. Voldemort still didn't know the entirety of the Prophecy. Two weeks of torture, two weeks of blood, pain, and death, and he still didn't know it. Harry could sense the Dark Lord's- irritation. Family after family of innocent, ignorant muggles were killed right in front of him, but he held onto that single fact that kept him going. Voldemort did not have the Prophecy. If he knew it, the entire world was doomed.

He suffered for it. Others suffered for it too. Harry glanced down at his battered body- he'd lost count of Cruciatus Curses placed on him during his stay, and his body bled from a thousand cuts. Bellatrix reveled in his pain, both physical and mental. The blood was all around him, on his arms, in his hair, around him on the cold stone floor, in his mind's eye- everything was blood…

Liam woke with a jolt. Though the final battle had been over for almost seven years, the nightmares still plagued him. He slept as little as possible while still being able to function. If he slept, the nightmares came.

A knock at the door drew his attention so fast that he cracked his neck. Groaning and rubbing the offending appendage, Liam rose and staggered to the door. He unlocked a series of locks, but left the chain attached as he opened the door. It was Jake, the percussionist and a fellow member of Lightening Strike, as well as one of Liam's best friends. Liam closed the door to unlock the chain, the opened it again to stand face to face with Jake.

"Man, Liam, you don't look so good. Did you sleep at all last night?" He asked, concerned. Liam let out a small smile.

"Yeah," he replied. Jake shook his head in sympathy.

"Dude, man you've got to be the only guy I know who looks worse when he does sleep than when he doesn't. Anyway, I came to remind you about our gig tonight. Remember? It's a first real public one at the pub down the street, _Demon's Landing_. We're setting up at seven. Bring your gear!"Jake said, turning on his heel and starting down the rickety stairs. Liam gave another smile and shook his head. Jake was always on the move. Liam turned, closing the door and resetting all the locks before heading towards the shower. Today was going to be a long day.

"Doctor Johnson, you have a patient asking for you in room A4. He asks that you come as soon as possible," said one of the nurses. Liam sighed. That must be Albert Smith- the most annoying patient in the world. If there wasn't a doctor in the room, he must have some sort of life-threatening disease that would undoubtedly kill him the moment he was left alone. Not that he didn't have a serious disease; he was dying of lung cancer, having been a heavy smoker for most of his life. Liam headed for his room.

"Finally, a doctor! I could be dying for all you know! No one's _ever_ here to check on me," spoke Mr. Smith as soon as Liam stepped into the room.

"Mr. Smith, I'm here to check on you. How do you feel? Is anything wrong?" soothed Liam, seating himself in a chair next to Mr. Smith's hospital bed. He steeled himself. This was going to be a very long, boring hour with Mr. Smith.

"Hey, kid. How're you feeling? Does your arm hurt?" Liam coaxed from one of his younger patients, a seven-year-old with a broken arm. She had fallen off the monkey bars at school.

"Better, sir. I feel kinda dizzy though…" she mumbled blearily to him.

"Ah. That's to be expected. The drug that we put in your blood to get rid of the pain makes you a little disoriented for a while. You should feel better after it heals a little more and you don't need the drug anymore.

"Dis- disohrie-ented?" The little girl asked, confused. Liam smiled at her slightly. She reminded him a little of how Ron used to be, sounding out all the words that Hermione used that he didn't understand.

"It means dizzy." Liam replied. "Remember, you can tell one of the nurses to come and get me if anything feels wrong, okay? I'll be here in just a few minutes if I get a call." He gave her another small smile before standing and walking out of the room. That was his last patient check-up for the day- and it was about time he finished. It was already passed six o'clock by the time he finished all his little chores- cleaning equipment, putting things away and filling out paperwork.

"Hey Sheila!" He called to a nurse. "I gotta go, call me if anything happens, alright? I'll get here as soon as I can!" With that he sprinted out the double doors to the hospital to his car. He had to hurry if he was going to make it to the club by seven. He stopped at his apartment for just a few minutes, to grab his gear, then set off for _Demon's Landing._ Just a few minutes later, he arrived.

"Hey guys," he said casually to his band mates. Jake was already there, fidgeting all over the stage. Liam grinned. Always on the move.

"Hey, _Lightening Strike_, you ready to go? It's time!" Came the shout from the owner of the bar a little less than an hour later. They were adding the final touches to their gear, checking sound and lights. Liam gave a slightly manic grin.

"Ready guys?" he asked. A chorus of "yes!" rang around the stage.

"And may I present, _Lightening Strike_!" Cried the bar owner to the bar. The lights fell, focusing on the stage. Liam gave a small smile. Music started up behind him. He let the music guide hem as he began to sing. This song he had written himself- reminiscing over the final battle and those that had led up to it.

"This song's called Numb, written by myself with help on the music."

I'm tired of being what you want me to be

Feeling so faithless lost under the surface

Don't know what you're expecting of me

Put under the pressure of walking in your shoes

(Caught in the undertow, just caught in the undertow)

Every step that I take is another mistake to you

(Caught in the undertow, just caught in the undertow)

Memories flashed through his minds as he sang. Dumbledore forcing him into the hero role. He couldn't fill his shoes. The entire wizarding world, putting him on a pedestal just to tear it down around him at the slightest sign of failure.

I've become so numb I can't feel you there

I've become so tired so much more aware

I'm becoming this all I want to do

Is be more like me and be less like you

He didn't want to be Dumbledore. He didn't want to be their hero. He wanted to be himself- Harry Potter, Liam Johnson.

Can't you see that you're smothering me

Holding too tightly afraid to lose control

Cause everything that you thought I would be

Has fallen apart right in front of you

(Caught in the undertow just caught in the undertow)

Every step that I take is another mistake to you

(Caught in the undertow just caught in the undertow)

And every second I waste is more than I can take

They were afraid. Afraid to lose their weapon. They wanted control, and when Harry went against that control, they slammed it down harder than ever, crumbling who he was, creating a crueler weapon, an ultimate weapon. Then they condemned him again, afraid to lose control of that weapon.

I've become so numb I can't feel you there

I've become so tired so much more aware

I'm becoming this all I want to do

Is be more like me and be less like you

His reaction to the war- numb to pain, numb to death, numb to ridicule. Always exhausted, but never missing a thing that happened around him. Paranoid.

And I know I may end up failing too

But I know You were just like me

With someone disappointed in you

I've become so numb I can't feel you there

I've become so tired so much more aware

I'm becoming this all I want to do

Is be more like me and be less like you

I've become so numb I can't feel you there

Tired of being what you want me to be

I've become so numb I can't feel you there

Tired of being what you want me to be

The song ended. Liam's flashbacks didn't. He pushed them aside, and forced a smile at the audience. The next song started up.

"This one's called Nobody's Listening."

Coming at you

Coming at you

Coming at you

Yo, peep the style and the kids checking for it

The number one question is

How could you ignore it

We drop right back in the cut over basement tracks

With raps that got you backing this up like

Rewind that

We're just rolling with the rhythm

Rise from the ashes of stylistic division

With these non-stop lyrics of life living

Not to be forgotten but still unforgiven

But in the meantime there are those who wanna talk this and that

So I suppose that it gets to a point

Where feelings got to get hurt

And get dirty with the people spreading the dirt, it goes

Tried to give you warning

But everyone ignores me

Told you everything loud and clear

But nobody's listening

Call to you so clearly

But you don't want to hear me

Told you everything loud and clear

But nobody's listening

I've got a heart full of pain head full of stress

Hand full of anger held in my chest

And everything left is a waste of time

I hate my rhymes

But I hate everyone else's more

I'm riding on the back of this pressure

Guessing that it's better I can't keep myself together

Because all of this stress gave me something to write on

And the pain gave me something I could set my sights on

You never forget the blood, sweat, and tears

The uphill struggle over years

The fear and trash talking and the people it was to

And the people that started it just like you

Tried to give you warning

But everyone ignores me

Told you everything loud and clear

But nobody's listening

Call to you so clearly

But you don't want to hear me

Told you everything loud and clear

But nobody's listening

I've got a heart full of pain head full of stress

Hand full of anger held in my chest

Uphill struggle blood, sweat, and tears

Nothing to gain everything to fear

Heart full of pain head full of stress

Hand full of anger held in my chest

Uphill struggle blood, sweat, and tears

Nothing to gain everything to fear

Heart full of pain

Tried to give you warning

But everyone ignores me

Told you everything loud and clear

But nobody's listening

Called to you so clearly

But you don't want to hear me

Told you everything loud and clear

But nobody's listening

I've got a heart full of pain head full of stress

Nobody's listening

Hand full of anger held in my chest

Nobody's listening

Uphill struggle blood, sweat, and tears

Nobody's listening

Nothing to gain everything to fear

Nobody's listening

Coming at you

Coming at you

Coming at you

Coming at you from every side

That one had been inspired more by his anger at the press- turning on him at the drop of a hat if he did anything wrong or challenged them. After fourth year, he had warned them all about Voldemort's return, but none listened. He didn't have to fake the smile at the audience this time, remembering their revenge on Rita Skeeter.

"Just one more song before our break. This one's called Ordinary."

Whose eyes am I behind?

I don't recognize anything that I see

Whose skin is this design?

I don't want this to be the way that you see me

I don't understand anything anymore

And this web that I'm tied up

Is taking me right up these walls

That I climb up

To get to your story

It's anything but ordinary

And when the world is on its knees

With me, it's fine

And when I come to the rescue

I get nothing but left behind

Everybody seems to be getting what they need

Where's mine?

'Cause you're what I need so very

But I'm anything but ordinary

Can you save me from this world of mine

Before I get myself arrested with this expectation

You are the one

Look what you've done

What have you done?

This is not some kind of joke

You're just a kid

You weren't ready for what you did, no

And when the world is on its knees

With me, it's fine

And when I come to the rescue

I do it for you

Time after time

Everybody seems to be getting what they need

Where's mine?

'Cause you're what I need so very

But I'm anything but ordinary

I think I'm trying to save the world for you

You've been saving me, too.

We could just stay in and save each other

I'm anything but ordinary

I'm anything but ordinary

With that Liam replaced his microphone and saluted the audience, then joined his band mates as they sat at a table nearby.

"Yes! That was awesome! Did you see their faces, Liam? They loved us!" Jake gushed. Liam gave him a smirk.

"But of course. How could they not like a fabulous singer like me?" He teased. He dramatically placed the back of a hand to his forehead, drawing laughs from all his band mates. Lee, the guitarist spoke up.

"Dude, they loved us! Did you see? Standing ovation!" He gave his easy smile that seemed to relax almost anyone. The bassist, a lady named Jess spoke her agreement.

"We did rock, Liam. Did you see their faces?"

At that, a waiter approached their table with a tray of drinks. "The lady over there ordered you guys a round of beer. Enjoy. Hey, nice playing." She said with a wink as she departed. Liam froze. The girl she had pointed to was the one and only Ginny Weasley.


	2. Witch Hunt

Ummm... I did get one review for chapter one of LST, but it didn't really have anything to do with the fic. If you're going to flame me, make it relevant, okay? I haven't even **mentioned** Snape in this story, much less hinted at a relationship between him and Harry... which is **not** going to happen. There will be no romance in this fic, slash or otherwise!

**Disclaimer: Do I look like J.K. Rowling?**

* * *

Why was she here. A statement, not a question. To come here, she must have some kind of reason, otherwise her family wouldn't let her out on her own. Not while the 'homicidal killer' was on the loose. No— Liam didn't know what she had to do with him, but she had a reason for coming here. Weasleys didn't hang out in muggle bars.

His masked eyes glanced around the room, his senses going in overtime, fueled by the adrenaline pumping through his veins. No one else he recognized; that didn't mean anything.

"Dude… Liam! Anybody home?" A hand waved in front of his face, drawing his eyes, but not his attention. "We understand you dig the chick- why don't you go talk to her? Face it, dude- you need a girl," Lee spoke up in his carefree voice. Liam forced a smile.

"Gee, thanks, Lee. I'm touched. I think I'll pass- I'm going out for some air. I'll be back for the next set, I promise," Liam said, distracted. How many others were here with her? Were they using her as bait, thinking that he would make a move to finish off the family he had supposedly started murdering all those years ago? Was she working for the Ministry? Scenarios over scenarios chased each other through his mind, each more unpleasant than the others.

His hand turned the knob of the door leading to the alleyway behind the club of its own violation, and he stepped out into the cool November air of London.

Not a moment after he had walked through the door, it slammed open once again. His body taking over after years of training, he leapt to the ladder of the building's fire escape. A redhead and three others that he didn't recognize entered the alleyway, spreading out, searching for him.

"Harry Potter! We know you're out here! Show yourself, and your sentence may be diminished," one of them shouted into dank, empty alley as Liam watched on from above, cloaked in the darkness of night.

_Right- from seven lifetimes to six. Like _that_ will do me any good…_ he thought silently.

"Weasley! Do you see him? You said he came out here," the same man continued, quieter this time.

"I did! The lead singer, he walked out the door. If he was Potter, then he probably ran when he saw me," she spat his former name like one utters a curse. "I'm dying for a chase anyway," she added, fury etched in her stance.

"It was probably a false lead anyway. Who did we get it from?" This time, the brunette woman.

"An anonymous source. We don't know who it came from," Ginny replied. Liam had heard enough. If they saw him, they would arrest him on the spot, just in case he _was_ Harry Potter, but if he ran, he'd look guilty. A no-win situation. Liam grinned… his specialty.

The rusted step snapped, giving way to Liam's weight only a story and a half above the Aurors in the alleyway.

"Shit," Liam swore under his breath as all four looked up at him.

"STUPEFY!" four voices shouted in unison.

"Shit."

No way was he going out now. He hadn't avoided capture for seven years just to be caught by a bunch of rookie Aurors.

"Consulo," he said lowly, his hand held out in front of him. He didn't need his wand to do magic. The quadrupled stunner broke into its original four prongs, returning to their casters. Only Ginny and the old man who had demanded that he show himself were fast enough to dodge. Liam knew that they would only keep coming back if they weren't killed- but he wouldn't taint his hands with the blood of innocents. He would not kill this night.

It had been seven years since the last time he had killed- the last time Bellatrix, murderer of his only father, had seen life.

In the confusion following the reflected stunner, Liam had already made it to the roof. Telltale clangs of feet on iron steps rang after him. With a single glance behind him to confirm that they had reached the roof behind him, he flipped over the banister around the roof's flat surface, and swung through the open window of the bar owner's apartment.

"Where'd he go? Did you lose him!" Incredulous voices followed him from the roof, but neither Auror had seen him on the roof.

"No, you were the one right behind him! How did you lose him?" Ginny's voice cried back in outrage. The voices faded as Liam crept silently through the apartment. An almost silent murmur of 'alohomora' saw him out of the apartment and down the stairs to the main bar. Composing himself, he walked over to the table of his bad mates.

"Hey, guys, I'm sorry, but I gotta ditch- one of my patients just went into a coma, I have to get the hospital as soon as possible," Liam swiftly lied to his friends. He hated letting them down, and he hated lying to them, but he couldn't drag them into this further than they already were. A hand slapped the table with a surprisingly loud 'bang!'.

"Dammit, Liam! You can't leave now! Can't we finish one more set? This is our big shot!" Jesse cried. Liam was taken aback. Jesse never really showed a temper like that before- she was the quiet one, keeping to the background, listening rather than talking.

Suddenly, something showed in her eyes that Liam had never seen before. A brown glaze over what had always been ocean-blue eyes. Previously ivory-white skin darkened. Something was wrong. Liam's magic senses were going ballistic. This wasn't Jesse.

"Cho…" Liam gasped. The asian girl had grown, completely out from under the effects of the Polyjuice Potion she had taken. All four Aurors from the alleyway burst in the door. Liam was trapped, no way out, and no one to count on.

"Harry Potter! You are under arrest for homicide!"

"Oh, shit…"

* * *

The much-anticipated chapter two of Lightning Strikes Twice… yeah right. Well, I know there are a lot of plot holes, and complete nonsense… but it was hella fun to write!

-Switchblade

Review!


	3. Caught

His band-mates looked on in bewildered astonishment.

"Liam… what's this about?" asked Jake.

"'Liam'? Going under an alias now, are you _Harry Potter_? Another name to add to the collection," remarked Cho, her wand pointed to Harry's heart along with the Aurors'.

"Harry Potter? You mean the mass murderer? You're _him_?" demanded Lee. Ginny Weasley cut off Harry's retort before it had left his mouth.

"You better believe it. Seventeen counts of murder, and seven lifetime terms in prison. Except _he_ escaped. Dumbledore needs you back though, so if you come _peacefully_ we _might_ reduce your sentence," she said, stepping closer, her wand still outstretched.

"What, down to six lifetimes? Thanks, but I'll have to decline," Liam snarled, kicking the wand out of her now in-range hand. Four stunners took out the Aurors, and he turned towards a suddenly pale Cho.

"Where's Jess? How long have you been masquerading as her? How many others are coming after me?" He fired questions in rapid succession, not sure of how much time he had before reinforcements arrived.

"The girl… Jess's in the bathroom in the basement, unconscious, but she's fine. We took her out just a half-hour ago… good thing, too, I have no idea how to play bass…" Liam cut her off impatiently.

"How many Aurors are coming?" he demanded.

"Oh, I'd say about thirty-seven," drawled a gravelly voice behind him.

"Shit," was all he could manage before the stunner hit him and blackness overwhelmed.

Harry let out a frustrated moan when he came to, cracking open protesting eyelids to a sight he really didn't want to see. A familiar pair of blue eyes behind half-moon glasses stared disapprovingly into his.

"I trust you slept well," said Dumbledore without preamble.

"Like a person stunned," Harry deadpanned back. "Look, I'd love to hang, but I have some patients that I really need to--"

"That has been taken care of. No one remembers you or the incident in the club," Dumbledore interrupted.

"You _erased my friends' memories_? Just how Arrogant can you get to just tamper--" he snarled, but was cut off yet again.

"Arrogant? No, just taking…necessary precautions, that's all." A pointed stare at Harry's neck made him suspicious. A hand flew up to his neck…

Only to meet cold, hard metal.

"What the hell have you done to me, old man?"

"Just taking necessary precautions, as I have told you already," Dumbledore replied amiably, the twinkle back in his eye.

Cold steel bound his wrists as well.

"_What have you done to me, old man_?" Harry repeated ominously. His magic wasn't responding. He called on his elemental magic; it too was tethered. His animagus form was gone. His eyes went wide with panic. He was helpless, and in the lair of the enemy.

"I've bound your magic. We can't send you to Azkaban; it's been captured. We can't have you loose among the students, there's no telling what you would do," Albus replied, monotone.

"What the hell are you talking about, old man? Who had Azkaban?" Harry demanded from his ex-Headmaster, his heart plummeting to join his toes. Dumbledore caught Harry's eyes with his own ocean-blue.

"Voldemort is back, Harry."


End file.
